


Five Times C.J. Cregg Made Abbey Bartlet Smile

by shonn



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shonn/pseuds/shonn
Summary: It was her smile C.J. fell in love with first. It was her smile that C.J. knew would cause the most pain.
Relationships: Abbey Bartlet/C. J. Cregg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Five Times C.J. Cregg Made Abbey Bartlet Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Celinejaneway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celinejaneway/gifts).



> I'm sorry it took me so long. I wanted to thank you properly for the encouragement and feedback, and this seemed the like best way to do it.

_**i.** _

C.J. sighed. She had been tossing and turning for over two hours, her mind on a million things at once. She was staring at the ceiling again when she finally sat up and then got out of bed, making her way slowly downstairs to the kitchen for some tea and space.

She was new to the house, a stranger stranded by an odd mixture of circumstance and choice, and she knew she should be grateful to be staying in a home rather than a hotel. Still, the comfort she thought she'd find in one of the Bartlet's many guestrooms had eluded her since she had parted ways with the rest of the campaign staff. The melancholy could be explained by exhaustion or stress, but C.J. suspected it had more to do with the expression she had witnessed earlier in the evening marring the porcelain features of the governor's wife. Although she could not be for certain, C.J. guessed the look to be one of yearning, a desire for some much-needed tranquility.

It was haunting and stirred within C.J. emotions she did not have time or strength to scrutinize.

"You should be sleeping."

The voice was warm and throaty, and despite recognizing it immediately, C.J. still jumped at its owner's sudden appearance.

"l didn't mean to startle you," Abbey said softly.

C.J. shook her head. "l hope I didn't wake you."

"No, I just couldn't sleep." Abbey joined C.J. at the table, the dim glow of the stove light casting shadows around them. "My body has grown unaccustomed to my bed."

C.J. chuckled but allowed the silence of the house to permeate their conversation. It settled comfortably, and C.J. caught herself once again wondering what Abbey was thinking. She watched as Abbey poured herself a cup of tea from the kettle sitting between them, the steam temporarily dulling Abbey from her gaze.

She forced her attention to the window, the moon clear and bright, reflecting off the snow and casting varying hues of blue on the ground. She could almost feel the cold seeping in through the grooves of the walls, and she shivered for no reason other than the power of thought.

"Are you cold?" Abbey asked, and C.J. took a deep breath before answering.

"We've been so busy in the past six weeks that I haven't taken time to notice the year is almost over."

Abbey glanced at the view C.J. had been admiring. "Time seems to slow here."

C.J. agreed but did not expand on the sentiment, sensing the other woman's wistfulness. Instead, she said, "When I was a little girl, I looked forward to the first snowfall of the season with an anticipation that kept me up all night. If school wasn't canceled, I would be too exhausted to go."

"We lose that kind of joy as we grow older," Abbey said. "Having children helps to recapture some of it, but even then that joy is something different than from when we were kids."

The silence crept upon them then, and C.J. knew the demons keeping them awake were readying to leap from the darkness. 

Putting her cup down and standing, C.J. reached for Abbey's hand.

"Wha...”

“I have an idea," C.J. said as she pulled Abbey to her feet and then ushered her to the coat closet. Taking out their jackets, she added, "Make sure you have your gloves."

"C.J., it's freezing outside."

Despite the protests, Abbey did as she was told, and the women bundled up tightly before C.J. guided them outside.

"l haven't played in the snow for a long time," C.J. said and crouched down to scoop up a handful of the fluffy substance. She carefully rounded it and then held it up for inspection when she felt a sharp blow to her back. Turning, she barely missed being hit by another snowball. “Hey!"

"Shhh," Abbey admonished, her tone sunnier than it had been in the kitchen. "You’ll wake everyone."

Nodding, C.J. quickly threw the crusty ball in her hands and then knelt to make another. She could see Abbey, her dark jacket blending into the night but her bright red boots shining on the snow, and she tried to aim but decided on quantity rather than quality.

Finally, Abbey sank in the snow, and C.J. laughed as she joined her on the ground and they used their bodies to form the outlines of angels.

As C.J. watched, Abbey closed her eyes and tilted her head to the sky, making an offering of something C.J. could not imagine. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight, and she finally released it slowly, sending with it a prayer of strength toward the heavens.

Abbey turned to her then with a smile of such contentment that C.J. felt herself wrapping her hopes around the woman lying next to her.

"Thank you," Abbey said, with a voice too soft to disturb even the fragile snow.

C.J. dipped her head in acknowledgement, her words rough against the white world around her. 

"You're welcome." 

_**ii.** _

C.J. had changed her clothes and taken a shower. She had held a briefing and done paperwork. She had been home and to the office. So, she can’t understand why she still feels like she is standing in a parking lot in Nashua, gunshots echoing around her, seeming to come from every direction as people she loves blur into the concrete. She doesn't understand a lot of what is happening to her right now, the waiting that is holding her in a moment she cannot escape.

The hand on her shoulder makes her jump, and she turns quickly to face the First Lady.

"C.J., are you okay?"

“I…” She doesn't know how to answer the question, not when it's coming from the one person to whom she cannot lie.

Abbey's hand slides down C.J.'s arm to interlace their fingers. Abbey’s smile is tight, but C.J. relaxes the slightest bit at the sight of it.

“How are you?” she asks instead.

Abbey shrugs. “Feeling grateful but worried.”

“Grateful?” C.J. glances at the double doors that eventually would lead to the surgical room where Josh’s heart is laid bare.

“For those still with us,” Abbey says. “Including Josh.”

C.J. meets the steady gaze of the other woman.

“Will he live?”

“I don’t know, C.J.”

C.J. nods, the answer not the one she wants but comforting in its honesty. She can still rely on Abbey, and that helps.

“You’ve been here all night?”

“I have a husband who just had surgery, a son who is still in surgery, and a daughter who I suspect is in shock.”

C.J. frowns, thinking of Zoey, but then she remembers. “Donna.”

“She’s strong. She’ll be fine. She just needs time to move a little faster.”

C.J. closes her eyes and exhales. “I should check on her.”

“Not yet,” Abbey says, her hand in C.J.’s warm and solid. C.J. fixes her gaze on their intertwined fingers.

“Do you remember that first winter together? During the first campaign. The snowball fight?”

Abbey’s eyes soften. “Of course.”

“You prayed that night, on the snow, to the moon.”

“For guidance. Strength. Family. For love.”

“Did you get the answer you were hoping for?”

“No,” Abbey says. With a shake of her head, she adds, “I got the one I needed. That’s the way prayer works.”

“I guess.”

“You sent a prayer up that night yourself. What answer did you get?”

“I…” C.J. is robbed by the surprise at being caught by this woman praying so long ago. She takes in her surroundings, the stark brightness of the hospital, the agents and staff loitering in a quiet space so accustomed to noise that the walls seem to vibrate in the silence. C.J. shakes her head, releases Abbey’s hand, and stands. “I’m still waiting.”

Even as she says the words, she realizes they are true, but Abbey’s sudden smile – reverent and real – burns C.J.’s intentions to an even barer truth. She had been praying for Abbey all along.

_**iii.** _

As soon as Abbey walked into the Oval office, C.J. averted her eyes. It had been days – weeks, months, years – and she knew she was in love. 

She wondered if anyone else could see it written across her features…if they could read her mind as she glanced at the president and his wife.

Was it guilt or desire coloring her cheeks now?

She longed to escape and was grateful when they were all dismissed, but then she heard her name in the voice she would recognize anywhere.

C.J. turned to find Abbey by her side.

“Dr. Bartlet?”

“May I have a moment?”

“Of course.”

Abbey guided C.J. down the hallway with a gentle hand at her elbow. C.J. felt the touch like a fire tugging at her skin, and she unconsciously bowed closer to the shorter woman.

“My personal shopper – how I hate saying that – has chosen two dresses for Saturday night’s event. I can’t decide which I like more. Would you be able to spare a moment to help me make a decision?”

“Uh, sure,” C.J. said as they changed directions toward the Residence. “You don’t usually use the personal shopper. What made you this time?”

Abbey frowned, something she’d been doing more and more as of late, and C.J. reflected the movement unconsciously, wanting nothing more in that moment than to see Abbey smile. 

“The increased security has made shopping almost impossible. Plus, with the schedule we’ve all been on lately, finding time hasn’t been much easier.”

C.J. just nodded and followed Abbey through the halls to the bedroom Abbey shared with her husband. Although she had been in this space for varying reasons over the years, C.J. hesitated at the doorway as Abbey disappeared into the closet. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she finally stepped fully into the room and closed the door just as Abbey reappeared in a midnight gown that sparkled under the light.

“What do you think?” Abbey asked as C.J. turned to face her.

C.J. smiled despite her internal nervousness and tucked her shaking hands behind her back. The dress had long, transparent sleeves and a round neckline that rested at Abbey’s clavicle. It fit her perfectly, not a stitch out of place.

“It’s beautiful,” C.J. said, appreciation clear in her tone as she raked her eyes over Abbey’s form.

Abbey seemed to study C.J. for a long moment before shaking her head. “No, it’s not quite right, is it? Let me try the other one.”

C.J. was surprised at Abbey’s reaction as Abbey once again disappeared into the closet. C.J. fidgeted as Abbey changed and wondered if she had done something wrong. She started to apologize, but then Abbey emerged and C.J. lost her words.

“Wow,” she said on a husky sigh as she took in Abbey’s appearance. 

The dress was a deep burgundy satin, with a V-neck and three-quarter, sheer mermaid sleeves and sweep train. The embroidered bodice accentuated every curve and highlighted every muscle of Abbey’s body, and the color made Abbey’s skin roseate, as if she was blushing against the wine-drenched silk. 

C.J.’s gaze memorized every detail, and it wasn’t until she reached Abbey’s lips, upturned in a smirk, that she realized she was openly staring. She wanted to say something, anything to defuse the flush she knew was blossoming on her cheeks, but her mouth refused to work. 

“Well,” Abbey said drily, “I guess this is the dress.”

C.J. felt her the redness tainting her flesh like a blaze, burning her from the inside out as she struggled to regain her composure. 

“Abbey,” she said and then cleared her throat in hopes of ridding herself of the heat she heard in her own voice. She knew she had just ruined any chance of keeping her crush a secret, and embarrassment washed over her, taking the place of her desire. But then, just like gasoline on an inferno, Abbey smiled, slow and tantalizing, and C.J. nodded. “Yes,” she said, not trying to hide her emotion. “I’d say that was the dress.”

_**iv.** _

One of C.J.’s favorite job tasks was introducing the president when he was announcing good news to the world. Granted, it didn’t happen as often as any of them would like, so she cherished every opportunity. 

What she enjoyed even more – and was even rarer – was having the pleasure of introducing the First Lady as the main attraction instead of her husband. C.J. had learned it was easy to find adjectives to use when describing Abigail Bartlet. 

Dynamic. 

Fierce.

Brilliant.

Beautiful.

Elegant.

Sexy as hell.

Of course, C.J. was also quickly finding it difficult to keep her mind from roaming into dangerous territory whenever she started thinking of those adjectives.

Still, she tried her best to keep her daydreams to a minimum and her thoughts to herself, especially when she was supposed to be doing her job, but it was getting harder and harder to do whenever Abbey was present, and it was at those times C.J. needed to concentrate most.

Like right now.

C.J. watched as Abbey shook hands with admirers along a rope line, and she smiled at the way the First Lady answered questions and took compliments. However, her smile faded when Abbey was joined by President Bartlet, his playfulness charming the crowd as he walked with his wife.

They were happy and very, very married.

C.J. suffered the familiar wave of shame pulling her under, and she turned away from the couple, reminding herself she had no place at their side.

At Abbey’s side. 

The joy she had found earlier when thinking of Abbey vanished, and C.J. knew she probably looked as miserable as she suddenly felt. She listened to the throng of people vying for attention and then glanced back at the presidential pair. Abbey was watching her with a penetrating expression, and she wilted even more as she realized her guilt was a pale comparison to her desire. Abbey tilted her head, a beckoning C.J. was powerless to ignore. 

When she reached Abbey's side, the First Lady touched her hand, and C.J. reluctantly met her eyes.

“You’re not alone, C.J.,” Abbey said, as if she could read the younger woman’s mind. Her smile was sad but beautiful and meant only for C.J., and C.J. returned it without hesitation, her heart reviving even as Abbey let go. 

_**v.** _

It was a slippery slope, C.J. knew, to allow herself even a moment of reprieve from her self-induced deprivation.

Yet, she could not ignore the delicateness of Abbey's wrist as the First Lady raised a glass for a toast. C.J. imagined she could see Abbey's pulse as it throbbed, and the thought caused C.J.’s own heart to beat faster, quickening its pace to match her rising panic.

She diverted her gaze immediately, once again feeling the burn of rejection upon her tongue, the taste made sharper by the memory of Abbey's breath mingling with her own. She could recall their conversation vividly, the words spoken just days before of desire and regret and responsibility. C.J. had kissed her anyway.

Abbey had sighed into C.J.'s mouth, their bodies relaxing against each other as the embrace continued. C.J. could still feel the goose bumps along her skin where Abbey's hand had rested, but it had to end, and Abbey had pulled away leisurely but resolutely. C.J. was prepared for anger or pity, not for the smile that slowly spread across Abbey's lips, sweet and loving with just a trace of remorse.

It was that smile C.J. held onto now as she listened to Abbey talk about the future of her husband’s presidency. It was that smile that had C.J. following Abbey out of the ballroom. It was that smile that C.J. kissed off Abbey’s lips as soon as they were alone.


End file.
